Pierrot to the Crown
by Bamboofoxfire Productions
Summary: Allen Walker, an unusual albino teen, is apprenticed to an aristocrat in the city of Solitude, running fetch-errands and being sold out to entertain at special parties and festivities as a popular Jester. The sudden assassination of his Master and a mysterious threatening letter left behind leaves him wondering as to the culprit, and sends him looking for answers.
1. The Return

**Pierrot to the Crown  
****A D Gray-Man and Skyrim Crossover**

* * *

A weary sigh escaped the lips of the cloaked traveler, forming a wisp of white breath that spiraled skyward and vanished before monochrome silvery-blue eyes. Snow had not fallen on this part of the land yet, despite being so far north, but even this ideal warmer time of the year the air was crisp with the promise of frost and snow soon to come. Crystal shards glimmered on the surface of the soil in the darkness of mid-nightfall.

Insects and frogs chirped their raucous songs from the cover of trees and tussock in a steady hum that the teen liked to think of much like one of nature's many songs, for lack of any better way to describe it.

Without even thinking of it, having taken this route many a time before, he took right at a fork in the main road heading downhill rather than up. He had been travelling for some time and was ready to reach his destination and say To-Oblivion with everything else.

He was very much travel-weary.

Exhausted, foot-sore, irate, thirsty, hungry…mostly hungry.

He had passed up room and food at the Four Shield's Tavern, passing it up in favor of reaching his destination and calling it quits at that instead. He could always stop at the Winking Skeever if he really didn't want to go the extra distance home, but his levels of tiredness were quickly catching up with his levels of hunger.

Sleep was starting to look a lot more appealing than food, which was saying a lot for the albino boy, who was infamous across many a town for his appetite.

The stone structures appearing over the rise and at the bottom of the hill were a welcome sight and the boy, whose hair was as white as freshly fallen snow and skin only a few shades too dark to match, picked up his pace a little, feeling just enough of his energy and enthusiasm renewed to put forth a little more effort to his steps.

_Solitude at last!_ he silently exclaimed, a small smile twitching at his lips, white cloak lined in fur furling out behind him as fine leather boots slapped down on stone-and-dirt roadway.

He passed by the watchtower, and through the outer gate, the main walls of the city coming into view. With a brisk stride, he crossed the distance and pushed open one of the heavy doors to enter the city, greeted by the lights of various tall structures of stone and wood – shops, mostly.

Still, it was good to return to his home city of Solitude.

For the most part, the streets were empty. An older man holding a mug for mead stood outside a double-story tavern, half-grumbling and half-singing some folk song familiar amongst the land's people, another figure obscured by shadow hanging out under a building with eyes gleaming out of the darkness, and a few guards walking up and down the streets patrolling.

It was a familiar scene and one that the boy welcomed.

Walking along the path, the whitette made his way under a large bridge and into the residential district, passing several homes and coming to stop at the doorway of a rather impressive home; Proudspire Manor. Truly a much befitting name, the building only outmatched in size by the Bard's College and the Blue Palace as far as residence went, and occupied by far less people.

Taking a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. The inside immediately looked rather plain and was just as chilled as the outside, cast in darkness that made it difficult to see. Eliciting a sigh, the boy felt his way around, having become more or less accustomed to this, until finding what he was looking for.

One of the things anyway, feeling his way around again until he found the others. Laying some wood in a stone pit, he set to work lighting it with some kindling and flint until he had a steady fire going, warmth already filling the room to replace the cold that the very walls seemed to emanate otherwise. Having removed his cloak already, he warmed himself up by the fire a bit before gazing around, tiredness still tugging at him but he still had something important to do.

Walking down the short hall, he turned right to head up a flight of stairs. A brief scan of the second story told him that the person he was looking for was still above, though he had expected as much, and ascended to the third floor, which had a table and a separate bedroom with door hanging only a crack open, of which had a large canopy bed and various other furnishings about the room.

Nestled on the bed however was a man with wild red hair, much older than himself. What made the teen avert his eyes was the company he shared, both momentarily seeming unaware of his presence. A bit of clearing of his throat made short work of how much longer he remained unnoticed by both the man and woman.

"Oi, idiot apprentice, haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

_I'll remember that next time,_ he retorted silently. Of course the teen never outwardly made such remarks or disobeyed the man and instead forced a polite smile, looking a little sheepish.

"Sorry, Master. I assumed you would be asleep," he apologized. "But I've returned with what you asked me to bring for you."

The man regarded him for a moment through harsh, almost red-brown eyes. "Just leave it on the table outside my room, and shut the door on your way out," he ordered crisply.

"Of course," the boy said, turning to leave. Once again, the man's voice stopped him.

"Oh, and Allen."

"Yes, Master?" Normally he would have turned a questioning look towards him but decided it better not to in this case.

"There's going to be a party tomorrow bright and early at the Blue Palace, and you're going to attend. Take a bath and get cleaned up and ready for it, you're absolutely filthy."

The adolescent nearly wanted to scream at the man. Of course he didn't like to be dirty and sweaty but he'd been walking for over a day and right now sleep took priority over absolutely everything else in his mind.

Even so, he only sighed in resignation and nodded his head, knowing that he didn't have much choice in the matter.

"Yes, of course, Master. It shall be done."

"Good, now leave us be." The man said in something of a husky tone. "I have other matters to attend to."

Resisting the urge to make a face, Allen shut the door and left the bag of coin on the table, deciding it wise to take the man's advice and leave them alone, walking off to go and draw a bathe to get washed, and then would have to pick out something nice and formal to wear afterwards and hope he had time for a little sleep in-between, before being dragged off to some 'party' against his will.

Unlikely, but one could always hold out hope.


	2. Assassin's Letter

**Pierrot to the Crown  
A D Gray-Man and Skyrim Crossover**

* * *

_I think Draugr get better sleep than I do these days…_ Allen silently lamented, stifling a yawn. He certainly _felt _like the walking dead right now. It seemed as if he'd had just enough time to close his eyes before they were open again and he was dragged off by his Master to attend this aforementioned party that he had no desire to take part in.

The Blue Palace was a great place and all, but sleep was an even better destination. And the lack of chairs, and having to stand – having to stand was the absolute worst right now, his feet silently pleading to have the weight taken off of them, but unfortunately he could not comply with them at the moment and instead just tried to find other things to focus on.

He smiled to a boy that couldn't be much older than him by appearance, with frizzed hair, tied down just behind his ears into two poofs, named Johnny if he remembered correctly. The other young male seemed to really like him and likewise Allen found it easy to get along with his personality. Johnny could really talk though…and talk, and talk, and talk, and talk some more.

The albino teen was trying really hard to focus on what he was saying, but really his attention kept fading in and out, his tired mind only catching about half of what the other was talking about. He hoped that Johnny just wouldn't notice the exhaustion tugging at his eyes or his smile and dampen the other boy's mood.

Besides just being boisterous and still perhaps a bit too overbearing and clumsy, Johnny was quite an intelligent and skilled individual, especially for his age. He was a great tailor, a decent herbalist, at least a moderate historian, and had a really strong passion for practical crafts and technology like blacksmithing and the study of ancient Dwarven machinery and automatons.

Really the only one who had a greater passion for the craft and study in machinery was-

"_Allen_!"

A yank on the back of his shirt made the boy elicit something of a yelp and looked uncertainly to a taller man with shoulder-length black hair and dark eyes, looking particularly serious.

"Um…y-yes, my Jarl?" he stammered, starting to recover from the sudden action. Offering him a smile and being only a touch more alert, he questioned, "Are you in need of my services to entertain your guests?"

"No, that won't be necessary," he replied, shaking his head with an odd look in his dark eyes as he regarded the boy. "I need you for another task. It's of the _utmost_ importance!"

_Here it comes…_ Allen predicted, once again offering the man a polite smile.

"Um…would it have to do with the young Lady Lenalee?"

The slight gleam in the man's eyes told him he was correct even as the man clapped a hand on either shoulder.

"Yes! Be her escort throughout the party, don't let her out of your sight. And most importantly, don't let any skeezy old men too close to her!" he said in such unwavering seriousness that it could easily be called comical. As if to add emphasis to this statement, he turned his gaze on a shorter blond man not far away, mingling with and talking to many of the other guests. "Especially not _him_."

Allen had to resist laughing softly, recognizing the blond that the black-haired male seemed so intent on. The blond had persistently sought after and insisted on taking the girl's hand in marriage ever since she came of age. Really his intentions weren't really bad, but that didn't stop the over-protective older brother from blocking his every chance at wedding his baby sister.

Still, he would do as asked, eager to please, and offered something of a small bow.

"Don't worry, my Lord, she'll be safe with me," he assured, earning a smile in return and appreciation from the man's gentle eyes.

"Good lad. She should be preparing her attire within her room. You know where."

Allen merely offered a dip of his head and turned to go and find the girl's room, knowing the destination already and pausing just outside the door, giving it a few taps with his fist and patiently awaiting a response.

A muffled _"come in"_ signaled that it was safe for him to enter and he pushed the door open, greeting a long-haired petite girl with his customary smile, unable to help but eyeball her flowing attire of blacks and whites.

"You look beautiful, Lenalee." Allen offered up in a gentlemanly manner, offering her a hand to escort her out, as was only proper. She returned his smile even as she took his hand.

"And you look handsome tonight as well."

Allen only chuckled softly as he took the lead, minding his pace. "Oh yeah?"

Lenalee only nodded in response. "My brother asked you to tend to me, didn't he?" she guessed easily as they walked down the stone hall towards the main festivities, receiving a nod of confirmation from the pale youth.

"He set me as your guard dog again from any possible suitors. He seems especially concerned about the head of the Chan family, of course."

Lenalee sighed and shook her head. "Well I suppose it could be worse. He could be forcing me into marriage instead," she acknowledged, still finding her brother's protectiveness a bit stifling but trying to find a bright side in all of it. Besides that, none of them interested her anyway.

The one that she really wouldn't mind spending her life with, if it were to come to that…

Her dark eyes shifted to Allen, who was focused ahead as they walked, becoming acutely aware of the warm hand that led hers. He was far more kind and truly gentlemanly than any of her suitors, but he was of a different social class, which was typically frowned upon. He could easily play the part of importance well, when he wanted, but people of power still noticed title and inheritance, or lack thereof.

Coming out to the main foyer of the palace, they moved to mingle and talk with others, Allen making it a point for them to dodge the blond with the romantic interest as per the Jarl's wishes and keep close watch on Lenalee, even knowing that she probably didn't really even need it. Still, she didn't protest his company either. Rather, she enjoyed it.

For a while, he had hit his second wind and regained a bit of his alertness, and the prospect of free food and drink offered helped him through the party, but sleep deprivation started to catch up with him once more in greater influence than before.

As they were interacting with the other guests, he couldn't help but notice a certain wild redhead amongst the group, with at least a couple of women practically hanging off of him. Really if there were any sleezy old men for the Jarl to be concerned about, it was his Master…

Likewise the man, a glass of wine in one hand and a woman hanging on the other, noticed the boy and offered him a slurred smile, staggering up with a gait that clearly said he was more than a little buzzed off of the alcohol.

"Hey, idiot apprentice…shouldn' you be entertaining all these fine folk? 'brought you 'ere to serve fer the party under request, not t' be served, now quit slackin'!"

"I requested the Jarl if my services were needed already, Master, and he said that he didn't and enlisted me to be the lady's bodyguard for the evening," Allen explained patiently.

His Master laughed roughly and raised his glass, noticeably careful not to spill any even in his drunken state. "Cozying up to the ladies, eh, boy? I see there's some things I can teach you after all!"

Allen blushed slightly and shook his head a little too quickly. "It's nothing like that. I'm simply providing my services as requested," he defended in a tone that was a couple octaves higher than usual.

"Aren't we all," the man slurred even as he smirked smugly and shamelessly rubbed noses with the woman hanging off his arm in a manner that could be called affectionate by most. The action sat more ill with Allen than anything. "Anyway, I'm going to retire for the evening for a little one on one festivities, maybe return to the main party when I'm done," he announced. "You continue to work here until the party's over and you're dismissed, understood?"

Allen sighed even as he felt that familiar yearning for a pillow and blanket to curl up with, eyes heavy with lack of sleep, but nodded none the less. "Yes sir."

"Good. I'm counting on ya'!" The man waved as he left the group scene to go off somewhere else and do things better left out of mind.

After the man and his newest hook-up had left, Lenalee appeared at his side, tilting her head at him slightly. "Allen?"

He blinked as his attention was brought back to her and he forced a smile. "Um, yes?"

"Are you alright? You don't look entirely well…"

"Oh, um, I'm fine, really," he defended, holding his hands up in a placating manner. She continued to gaze at him in concern.

"Cross hasn't been working you too hard, has he?"

"No, not at all. Really. Nothing more than usual," Allen insisted. "Nothing a good night's sleep can't fix."

"My brother said that you were away earlier today when he sent a request for you to attend. You were travelling yesterday to get here, right?"

"Well, yes…" Allen admitted sheepishly. "But, it's really nothing huge. I mean…I go lots of days without much sleep, it's really nothing to- hey, wait! Lenalee! The party's back there," he motioned even as she grasped him by the hand and pulled him along a bit forcefully, the teen stumbling along behind her before finding his feet enough to follow her brisk steps.

"My brother told you to accompany me wherever I went, right?"

"Um, yes?" Allen answered uncertainly.

"Then follow me to my room, Mister Walker. After all, you wouldn't want to leave me unaccompanied with all of these skeezy old men around," she said coyly, casting him a smile.

"Of course not, m'lady," Allen replied with a slight flush of embarrassment, following along until they had reached her room, Lenalee stopping alongside her bed.

"You can rest in my bed," she announced, Allen once again turning a more rosy hue.

"My Lady, I can't…it's not a proper thing to do," he protested weakly, feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Nonsense. You would never do anything, so it's perfectly proper," Lenalee maintained.

"But-"

Huffing with impatience, Lenalee moved to push him onto the bed, the teen falling back and looking at her with slightly wide eyes.

"Now you lie there while I go change into something less formal and showy, and you're going to stay there and face somewhere else without looking. That's an order from your escort."

"A-alright…" Allen murmured, seemingly having opted to simply submit to her will. Smiling in satisfaction, Lenalee walked off to do as she had said in another spot in the room, Allen of course making it a point to look elsewhere, only moving to unstrap the sword he always kept at his side and rest it against the bed, until she had finished changing.

Or rather, sleep crashing down on him before he had the chance to see her change in attire, which had more or less been the initial plan anyway.

When Lenalee returned she was dressed in a long and simple dress-like gown that stopped just above her feet, smiling softly as she came to sit on the bed and idly traced a hand over the side of the teen's face, brushing aside and playing with his white hair.

Even in sleep he looked innocent and like the perfect gentleman. And for the night she had him all to herself to enjoy his uplifting company.

* * *

Admittedly Allen was quite enjoying his sleep…until he was rudely awakened by a hand violently shaking his shoulder and in turn jarring him awake. Opening his platinum eyes to see the dark-haired older brother only made his sleep-addled mind rather confused. Why was the Jarl of Solitude in his house…?

Wait, no, that wasn't right…why was _he_ sleeping in the Blue Palace?

His gaze travelled over to the sleeping female form of Lenalee curled up on the other half of the bed and he was instantly brought fully awake, struggling to sit up and his expression somewhat panicked as he looked up at a very grim, overprotective older brother.

"Komui…erm…Jarl, sir, this isn't what it looks like! Honest! The young Lady…she insisted I lie down for a nap and well…I didn't know she would join me and-" he stammered, falling deathly silent as a hand clamped down on his shoulder, nervous blue eyes looking up into unusually serious dark hues.

A knot of dread twisted in his gut and, despite the situation and all previous experience of the man's over-reactiveness towards anyone being in a compromising situation involving the girl, something in the back of his mind told him that the two had nothing to do with the other.

Something else was very wrong.

"Allen, I need you to get up and come with me, right now." It was obviously an order that he was not meant to disobey, and at the moment, he wasn't sure that he wanted to. Then again he wasn't sure that he didn't want to disobey either, but didn't have a choice and simply nodded.

"Yes. Alright…"

The man simply sighed and backed up, allowing him room to stand from the bed and re-secure his sword to his belt. Lenalee stirred and gazed at them in confusion, still half-asleep as she watched them start to leave.

"Lenalee, stay here. Do not even leave this room," Komui ordered in a strained sort of voice, shutting the door and leading Allen into the main chamber of the Blue Palace in uncomfortable silence. The hairs on the back of Allen's neck prickled and he couldn't help but wonder what had the man so serious.

"Um…sir? This isn't about my sleeping in the bed, is it? Really, nothing happened, I just-"

"Quiet," Komui said, his voice almost impossibly soft but Allen obeyed none the less despite the fear and uncertainty creeping up his spine.

He simply nodded in silence, gulping softly, and continued to follow at Komui's heels briskly, a few guards coming to accompany the man as they stepped outside of the Blue Palace and into the street.

Was he in trouble…?

Were they going to do something to him to punish him?

What was this about?

They came to stop just outside of Proudspire Manor and Komui stepped aside, a mutilated body laying supine across the street, in blood. A body that Allen was far too familiar with and had never imagined he would see in such a state.

The shock alone was almost enough to make him retch, but he managed to keep himself together enough not to do that, much less under such scrutinizing eyes, but his own were wide with horror and disbelief.

Everything he could've said died in his throat for many minutes as he tried to find the right things to say and fell woefully short. He was aware of a hand on his shoulder steadying him, dark eyes filled with sympathy, and after a while he finally managed to find his voice, albeit hoarse and trembling.

"What- what happened?"

"We don't know…it was still a time after death that we were made aware of this," Komui admitted somberly, his face troubled. "We were hoping you may have some idea… you were his apprentice after all."

It took a few seconds for the words to register and Allen shook his head in the negative, his eyes downcast and his body quivering somewhat in the darkness of night. After a few moments, Komui's voice rang out more sharply.

"Guard, make sure this body is properly removed and prepared for burial, and clean up any signs of this off of the street before daybreak. We don't want the rest of the city spreading too much word or getting into a panic. Double the patrol and take in anyone suspicious and especially unfamiliar for questioning." He paused as his gaze swept back over to Allen, the youth still visibly traumatized by the sudden and unexplained death, dark eyes softening before he ordered more softly, "Escort Allen and I back to the Palace and keep on alert. We don't know where danger may be lurking tonight."

The guards went about their tasks. Komui squeezed the boy's shoulder supportively.

"Come on, Allen, we should return to the Palace. We can try and sort this out there, and it may not be safe for you here."

It took a little bit of a tug, but Allen moved to follow, only to stop short and his eyes returned to the body, stepping towards it to kneel down and finger the edge of something partially obscured by blood. The feel of the surface alone told him that it was parchment, picking it up.

A folded paper…with a wax seal on it. A letter?

Breaking the seal and unfolding it, part of the paper was stained and obscured by blood, but still readable, the words creeping chilling ice into his chest.

_**He was only the first.**_


	3. Next Steps

**Pierrot to the Crown  
A D Gray-Man and Skyrim Crossover**

* * *

Half-lidded monochrome eyes gazed back from the narrow circle of liquid held between each palm. At the moment nothing really felt real, like a bad dream, the teen still trying to make sense of everything in his head and fit the pieces into place but they weren't quite clicking.

Again and again, the same thought spiraled through his head – _Who would kill Master? _– not finding any answers to this silent question and doubling back again as if the next time the answers would come to him.

The first thought that came to mind was that it could be someone out to collect unpaid money…especially with some of the people that his Master owed. Some of them were definitely the type to kill if they weren't paid in a manner timely to their liking. Since Allen was usually the one left to have to work off his Master's debts and expensive living, he knew first-hand more than anyone what some of these people were like.

Another thought that came to mind was a jealous or enraged man finding out his Master had made sweet on a woman or sister of his…after all, his Master loved women and was more than a little lecherous. It wasn't entirely unheard of – actually rather common – for that to happen when a man discovered such things done by another man.

It could've been a Hit as well…a contract to the Dark Brotherhood. Master had plenty of enemies, so it wouldn't be surprising.

Maybe even just a random mugger trying to shake down his Master for his riches and was unhappy to find his Master had less money than he seemed to look and live by.

Of course all of these guesses vanished relatively quickly when thinking back to the letter left on his Master's corpse.

Money collectors were still a possibility…but unlikely. Unless they intended to come after him as well to try and reap whatever coin they could, rather than settling for his Master's death.

A jealous or enraged man avenging his women's purity would simply settle for the death of the one responsible.

It definitely wasn't a random mugging.

The Dark Brotherhood simply wasn't that sloppy. Their hits were typically clean and anonymous, unless this was a part of some greater plot. Could it have been?

This one gave the boy the most amount of pause. It wasn't entirely ludicrous to suspect that perhaps his Master's murder was simply to work up to something more impacting.

That wasn't to say that it wasn't a possibility though. Could the Dark Brotherhood have been contracted for an even bigger murder? Was his Master's assassination simply a casualty to cause that of another?

It was a possibility…though he was a lecher and owed vast amounts of gold, the man still had definite connections in high places, especially after lending out Allen to provide services for others high up in power and influence and gain more favor.

Who else was at risk, then? Was his own life in danger? The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and his eyes nervously scanned the shadows of the room, as if he expected an attacker to appear and try to slash his throat any second.

Normally he was relatively calm and collected, able to relax under great amounts of strain, but the unexpected death and all the unanswered questions as to how and why left him feeling vulnerable and uncertain.

Would someone try to kill _him_ next?

_No…why would they want to assassinate a lowly servant? It wouldn't serve any purpose,_ he tried to reason and settle himself, reaching a hand up to massage his temple as he felt a stress headache beginning to form.

So then who were the unknown assailant's other possible targets? Quite a few, actually…

His silvery eyes shifted up as Komui approached, his face still troubled and sympathetic as he came to stop in front of the boy.

"Allen, how are you doing?" Concern laced his voice as he posed this question. A small smirk crossed Allen's lips, but it was humorless and lost.

"I don't know…confused? A lot of things, really…doesn't seem like there's any words that can really convey any of it, though." His eyes shifted down to the mug of cider held between either hand and he idly swirled the cup around, the liquid threatening to spill out over the rim but not making it quite that far.

He could still feel Komui's eyes on him, pitying and filled with understanding, even if he didn't look up to see it himself.

"I can't believe my Master's been…" he trailed off at that point and couldn't seem to bring himself to finish, his eyes overshadowed by horror and grief.

"You cared a lot about your Master, didn't you?" Komui asked softly.

"He put me through a lot…" Allen stated honestly, blunt. "Way more than I ever wanted to have to put up with. He also saved me from a lot." His eyes shifted to his left hand, now ungloved since the earlier evening and party – dark red flesh that looked burnt and felt rough as rock – the deformity that had plagued much of his younger life and made him abandoned and outcast as a child. The grip he held on his mug tightened bitterly. "He took me in after my father died. Not many other people would've done that. Not with this damn arm anyway."

Komui hummed in response and silence lapsed between them for some time afterwards, Allen continuing to swirl his mug around as a distraction from the uncomfortable settling of absolute quiet.

"Well…at any rate, I want you to come with me. We have things that we need to discuss, and I think it best if you were with us when we do. He was your Master after all, and any bit you can provide would be invaluable if it helps even the smallest amount."

Allen merely nodded his head and stood, leaving his mug behind as he followed along to the chamber that many of the Palace's higher residence were gathered, each looking grim, some sympathetic.

Taking a seat in one of the chairs, Komui sighed wearily and massaged the pits of his eyes, obviously anxious over this entire ordeal.

"What we _know_ for certain is that Cross' death was no accident. This was a deliberate murder. What we don't know is why – and by whom. We're sure that whoever did it fled the city by now, probably even before we were aware of the murder. Exactly what this means, I can't be sure just yet…but it's obvious by the letter left that this isn't the end of it, and we need to be prepared."

Silence permeated the room afterwards and Allen decided to speak when it became apparent that no one else was going to.

"What if Master wasn't really the target at all?" he proposed in a somewhat quiet voice, his gaze shifting uncertainly around the room to the other occupants. He seemed to have their attention, Komui's the most of all as the man leaned forward and clasped his hands over his lap.

"Exactly what are you suggesting, Allen?"

"I mean…if perhaps he was just a lesser target leading up to a bigger one…" Allen continued, not sure how this prediction would be taken but giving it none the less. "Based off of the letter…the threat written into it that there are other people in mind for whoever did it to kill as well. All of you might be in danger." He was most hesitant about the last part of his statement but figured that it needed to be said, and likely they had similar thoughts.

Komui seemed to be seriously weighing what Allen said in his mind, carefully considering the words before deeming it appropriate to speak again.

"It's a possibility…whoever committed the act obviously intends on more, that threat was made quite clear." Even as he spoke, several of the room's occupants glanced at each other and around the room nervously, some more inconspicuous than others.

"Is it the Brotherhood?" Allen questioned uncertainly.

"I don't think so…" Komui shook his head and picked up the letter that had been folded on the table in front of him. "The wax seal that was left isn't in any way associated with them in any sign or symbolism I can tell…in fact, I'm not sure who the seal belongs to, but it's one I don't recognize. However, I'm not completely versed in every seal that exists, or whether this is that of an individual or a group."

"So what are we going to do about this?" another man about Komui's age, with unruly blond hair, questioned.

"That's a good question…what _are_ we going to do about this?" Komui parroted in exasperation. "We're groping around in the dark at the moment, and I'm sure that's just how our mysterious assassin likes it."

Once again, silence followed, Komui seeming to mull something over in his head before coming to a decision.

"Given circumstances, I think we have no choice…Reever?" His dark eyes shifted to the blond man. "Please see to it that a letter is written up and sent to Cyrodil to request aid. I have a particular person in mind – you know the one?"

Reever gave it a moment's thought before nodding his head.

"Yeah, I believe so."

"Good. See to it immediately, have it sent by horseback as swiftly as possible. They're to leave as soon as physically possible and rendezvous in Whiterun. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Reever nodded, taking that as a dismissal and walking away.

"Johnny, see to it that any necessary provisions are gathered up properly and prepared for a trip to Whiterun."

"Alright," Johnny nodded, sauntering off to do just that.

"Allen?"

The white-haired teen perked slightly and gazed at Komui in confusion. "Um, y-yes?"

"I hate to do this now…but I'm sending you elsewhere. I need you to trust in my judgment, is that understood?"

"Of course…" Allen relented with a hint of uncertainty and confusion.

"I want you to leave here and travel to Whiterun to meet with someone. From there the two of you will travel to Winterhold, and take this letter with you to the college. I can't say for sure that they'll have anything to tell you about it, but it's a starting point, at the very least," the man informed.

Allen hesitated for a moment before nodding his head slightly. "If that's what you wish, my King."

* * *

Allen sighed even as he checked over the supplies Johnny had brought for him. Really they weren't anything he didn't already have at home to prepare but High King Komui had insisted he stay away from that place, as a precaution. He supposed he couldn't blame him, with what was currently going on.

Re-packing his supplies, he picked up his white cloak and swung it around to rest on his shoulders, securing the latch on the front so it would stay in-place.

It wasn't unusual for him to be sent off to some other city across Skyrim or even other parts of Tamriel, but never under such circumstances, and never under someone else's command other than his Master's.

The image of the man's mutilated body flashed through his head, not for the first time, and he found himself suddenly feeling ill, heavily sitting down on the edge of the room's bed and resting his head between his hands, willing the thoughts and the mental imagery away before he became more physically sick.

_He's really dead. My Master, gone, just like that. What next? Am I going to lose more people now?_

Despite that he knew he shouldn't delve into such thoughts, he couldn't help but do so, these ideas not helping at all with how he was feeling.

"Allen?"

The albino jerked up to gaze at Lenalee, the girl standing in the doorway of the room looking hesitant. The teen forced a smile and greeted her as politely as ever, though his voice was noticeably softer.

"Hey, Lenalee."

"My brother told me that you were leaving." She seemed to deem it safe to enter and approached to sit on the bed to his right.

"Yeah…seems so. I shouldn't be gone long, though. I mean, it's not all that unusual for me to go on trips, you know?"

"Don't do that…" Lenalee hissed in something of a choked voice. Allen blinked and glanced over in confusion, noticing tears shimmering in her eyes.

"Do what?"

"Smile like that and say those things…when things are going so wrong. You always do that. I hate it. You _know_ I hate it."

Allen sighed and clasped his hands together in his lap, looking down at them though his smile didn't disappear, but didn't say anything in response, aware of her weight against his side.

After what seemed an eternity he finally shifted to stand up, gazing over at her with the same forced smile.

"I need to be going…but I'll be back. I promise. Things will turn out okay." He couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt for making her cry, but tried to offer up what reassurances he could at the very least.

Gathering his things, they made their way to the foyer of the Blue Palace hand in hand, Komui waiting for them by the door.

Allen blew out a slight breath, trying not to let any of the stress and anxiety he was feeling internally show too much, offering Komui the same smile he'd given Lenalee.

"I'm off to Whiterun." He announced. Komui nodded grimly and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Be careful out there, and come back to us alive and in one piece."

"I will." Allen nodded, sounding more confident than he felt about that statement. After a few moments Komui moved aside to allow Allen to pass, the teen opening the door and pausing to glance back. "Farewell."

With that, he continued on his path to leave Solitude and head to Whiterun as instructed, silently hoping as he did that it wouldn't be a last farewell.


	4. Journey's Start

**Pierrot to the Crown  
A D Gray-Man and Skyrim Crossover**

* * *

Allen blew a long-suffering sigh out through his nose as he climbed out of the small boat onto the shore just across the way from Solitude and the East Empire Trading Company docks. He still recalled the plan he'd been more or less subjected to listen to and follow with Komui not too long ago and what he was to do from here on out.

"_Allen, listen carefully. There's a very real possibility that you could be a target as well. More than likely the assassin, whoever they are, will assume you to take the main road if you leave at all, since it's the most sure-fire way to reach wherever you need to go from Solitude. That's why you mustn't exit through the main gates, go the route that takes you directly under Solitude. A guard will be waiting for you to ferry you across from there."_

Allen had of course done as asked, and met the guard at the edge of the water in the shadow of the huge stone archway that supported much of the city. Even with the guard present, he couldn't help but gaze around in wary alertness, still nervous of a possible assassin just waiting to shoot him through the back of the head with an arrow or sneak up behind him and slash his throat.

If anything, the measures that Komui was going to in order to see him safe was doing the opposite of putting his mind at ease. They were only reinforcing the fact that there was an ever-real, present danger on his life and, really, if they wanted him dead very badly he was sure they'd find a way to accomplish it, safety measures or no.

Upon reaching the shore he climbed out, watching even as the guard rowed the boat back to the other side before he himself turned around to gaze out across the open wilds, still feeling scared despite that he tried to push such feelings aside.

"_Head to Morthol from there through the swamps, and do not stop until you reach it. Be on high alert at all times. Possible assassin aside, there are entirely other sets of dangers to face out there that may threaten your life. You can't let your guard down."_

He was pretty sure he should've been insulted by that, actually…

He had braved the wilds many times before and had to literally fight to survive. The wilderness was not a completely foreign place for the boy and he would never in a million years admit to anyone some of the measures he'd had to go to in order to stay alive.

The teen shook his head and had to remind himself that the man was only worried for his well-being. After all there was an assassin on the loose that none of them knew what the person looked like, where they were from, or even what their intentions or targets were. No doubt Komui was under a lot of stress and just trying to find the safest way for all to get through this whole affair alive.

Adjusting his travelling pack and taking one last glance around for good measure, he set off over the hill headed southeast. Likely he'd just come across mud crabs and frostbite spiders on the way, creatures he could pretty easily avoid. Hopefully there were no trolls lurking about but one could never be too sure.

The sound of a wolf not far off nearly made him jump but he quickly settled with a sigh, straining his ears to locate the direction it was coming from so he could skirt around them.

As he continued to walk, he could determine that they were somewhere off across a face of rock and unaware of him, the teen deeming it a good idea to move it a bit faster before he got attacked.

The marshes beyond looked just as creepy and ominous as ever, cloaked in a cold fog and overrun by sparse grass and dead looking trees. Thick blocks of ice at least allowed relatively easy passage between smile islands of dirt without getting too wet, and before long was past much of the swamp on the far east bank, making his way directly south from there.

As he made his way along, he came across a pair of slain Draugr by a stone archway, being extra cautious to make sure they really were permanently dead before getting too close. It seemed strange to him…had someone else been through here? Was it recently?

_Could it have been the assassin?_ This thought once again brought his nervous feelings rushing to the forefront, glancing around warily and the boy moving to hide behind the stone arch, peaking his head out and gazing around cautiously. Were they nearby? Maybe even waiting for him…

He stopped and shook his head furiously. Even if they had been through here, likely it wasn't because he was travelling the same way. They had probably escaped this way and run across them…assuming it was the assassin and not some random adventurer.

Still, once again unsettled, the teen hastily went along to reach Morthol as instructed and hopefully someplace a little more safe. He ended up nearly walking right into a group of hostiles camped out near a ruin, which resulted in him having to hide in the freezing water just under the cleft of a rock for many minutes until his teeth were nearly chattering, but finally got an opening to slip away unnoticed(and wet) without conflict.

_Stupid! That was stupid, Allen Walker,_ he silently berated even as he shivered, the freezing air making some of the water turn to frost on the surface of his cloak. As much as he hated the wet and the cold, he kept it on since shedding his clothing in this temperature with such water on him could turn more deadly.

He needed to keep himself from turning careless with haste and clear his mind of fear. Easier said than done but it was also certainly easier than dying.

Continuing on his way, he reached Morthol before too long, having to cut down a persistent mud crab just outside of the town but was happy to finally reach it.

It wasn't incredibly large or protected…certainly not like some of the other Holds like Solitude or Whiterun. There were no major walls protecting the city, and wood houses with grass-thatched roofs were located right on the water. The boardwalks and docks were covered in a thin sheet of snow and ice, and small boats were docked off almost every house.

A brief search brought him to the Moorside Inn, the warmth of the heated inside of the building bringing him great relief, the boy letting out a sigh.

A brief scan of the room, just to be safe, assured him that there was little company within, and certainly no one who looked like a shadowy assassin. Of course looks could be deceiving but at the moment it seemed as if no one of dangerous intent was near.

After having to brave the cold and wet out in the open wilds, that was good enough for him, for the moment.

Making his way to the far desk of the room, he greeted the innkeeper, a redguard woman, with a customary polite smile.

"Well hello. You look like you crawled right out of the swamp. Climbed out of the Morthol moors, did you?" She greeted, looking him over.

"That about sums it up," Allen said in a light tone.

"You're quite young to be travelling by yourself. You have business in Morthol?"

"Um…not quite. I'm just passing through on an errand for my Master." Really he only considered it a half-lie since his trip did technically involve his Master's affairs. Just not the way he made it sound.

"Well make yourself at home by the fire. You wouldn't want to catch your death. Don't be afraid to ask if there's anything I can get for you."

"Thank you," Allen replied politely. "Actually…there is. I'd like to buy some food, lots of it. I have plenty of gold to pay."

The woman nodded. "It will take a short while, but make yourself at home in the meantime."

"Thank you again," Allen offered up before moving to sit by the fire, making it a point to sit on the far corner opposite the front door, just to keep an eye on things.

He finally shed his cloak, casting a glance over at the woman and calling out, "Um, excuse me? You don't mind if I hang my cloak above here to dry a bit, do you? It's not dripping wet or anything."

"Go ahead. Just be careful it doesn't catch on fire. Your fault if it does."

Allen nodded and carefully tossed the cloak over the wood beam standing over the fire, being sure it wasn't too close to catch embers and light up on fire. That done, he settled on the ledge almost uncomfortably close, heat radiating across his previously chilled skin.

It was nearly enough to lull him to sleep but the announcement of food had him awake and alert again, taking the food offered with a grateful smile and another polite thanks. Despite that she had brought a considerable amount, he had it finished in no time and piped up for more, surprising her.

"Wow, you must really be hungry. How long has it been since you've eaten?" she half-joked.

Allen couldn't keep a slight blush from rising to his face and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Um…I've just always had a really large appetite…really, it's totally normal for me. Sorry, it _is_ okay if I have more, isn't it? I mean, I don't want to drain you of all your food stores or anything," he said, remembering his manners now that he at least had some food in his stomach.

"Oh no, it's perfectly alright. I'm just surprised. You just don't look like the type to eat that much. Certainly not like some of the other fat loafs that come around here."

Allen smirked and resisted the urge to laugh somewhat as he heard a man at another table bark, "Hey!"

He noticed the woman pointedly ignore it as she continued talking. "Anyway, you're free to as much as you can eat."

Allen once again thanked the woman, finally feeling full after the second round of food and providing the coin he'd promised, as well as ten gold for a room for the night once he was ready to turn in and significantly dry.

Heaving a long suffering sigh, he settled on the bed of the inn room, a bit uncomfortable with the open doorway but would just have to make do with it for the night and hope nothing happened. His travelling and meal had still done nothing to quiet is tumultuous thoughts or the paranoia nagging at the back of his mind.

However, he did manage to find rest after a short while of gazing up at the ceiling, blissfully unaware of being watched by a small and unnoticed figure.


	5. Late Gift

Allen yawned even as he stretched his arms above his head, shifting his shoulders and working out some of the stiffness. He hadn't gone to bed all that late the previous night and likewise there was no light yet coming through the small window high up on the wall of the room, so he figured it was still early in the morning. A quick glance outside of his inn room told him that no one else was awake at this hour, so he couldn't ask the innkeeper to prepare any breakfast for him.

He could always leave without, but his stomach immediately protested this decision with a gutteral growl that made him glad no one else was awake and about. Deciding to wait a bit, he further stretched his muscles and did a few early morning workouts to keep his body conditioned, taking care to keep relatively quiet so as not to unneccesarily wake someone.

It was while he was doing his workouts that the woman who kept the inn appeared again, the teen not immediately noticing her as he counted pushups under his breath.

"Working so early in the morning?" she questioned lightly, Allen glancing up and shifting to kneel, offering her a polite smile.

"Well you never know what you're going to face when traveling. Best to be prepared and keep in shape," Allen returned in explanation, hopping to his feet in one fluid motion. "After all, wild animals and bandits certainly aren't sitting on their laurels relaxing and getting flabby. I can't let myself do so either."

"A wise outlook, I suppose." The woman nodded. She seemed to pick up on how the boy had perked up slightly when she entered and questioned, "So, would you like me to prepare a breakfast?"

Smile twitching wider, Allen nodded his head borderline eagerly, having more of an appetite than when he'd first awoken after working out a little and waking himself up. "Yes, please." After giving her a list of particular foods he'd liked that could feed a small force of Legion soldiers, he took a seat at one of the far tables, still a little wary of leaving his back to one of the building's doorways, so he could keep an eye on every corner.

_Well they didn't slash my throat last night while I was sleeping or anything,_ he acknowledged with a wry smile tugging at his lips, rubbing his neck and collarbone uncomfortable at the thought. _So I suppose I'm not being tailed or anything. At least not by anyone looking to kill me at any rate, but I still need to keep my guard up. It's still a long way from here to Whiterun. That's a lot of unchecked wilderness to cross - a lot of room for something to go wrong._

Allen glanced up at the doorway as someone entered, a woman, though certainly not like most of those within the walls of Solitude that he was most accustomed to. He could tell after a quick glance that she was much more hardened to the wilds, carrying a rather hefty weapon with her and dressed for the harsh elements of the north - not the frilled, showy dresses he saw the most in many larger cities like the ones Lenalee wore.

He felt a stab of guilt as he recalled his friend still in Solitude. At least he assumed she was still there but with recent events, perhaps the High King had sent her somewhere else where she might be safer, especially with how protective the man was of his younger sister. Really it was amazing that Allen had been allowed around her so much, but Komui seemed to like and trust him so he tried not to question it too much.

_Ugh, I made her cry when I left. If - no, _when _I return, I need to apologize._ He mentally sighed, feeling like the lowest kind of jerk. He hadn't done it on purpose of course, but he still felt bad for leaving like that and causing her grief, especially knowing how worried she would be about him until they saw each other again.

He came out of his thoughts as the innkeeper made her way over with the food that she had prepared, which seemed like far more than a boy his age or size would be able to eat, though the woman had learned better the night before, and he offered up a grateful smile as he saw the food.

"It looks delicious, thank you!" he offered up, digging in immediately.

The woman chuckled slightly even as she watched the kid practically inhale his food. "So you said you were traveling. Where to?" She questioned idly.

Allen paused - partially to swallow - before gazing up at her and giving it a brief moment of thought. Given the circumstances, he figured it best not to say a particular location just to be safe.

"Oh, just a little ways south from here. I'm looking into buying some supplies that weren't in Solitude. Really I just have to keep trying towns and cities until I find what he wants. Whiterun, Faulkreath...maybe as far as Riften or Windhelm. Hopefully I won't have to leave Skyrim entirely to find them or anything." He laughed softly. "It'd be a lot of trouble to have to cross the Jarrol mountains into Cyrodill or another neighboring region, but hopefully it won't come to that."

"I see. It might have been better for you to travel the main road rather than coming through the moor though."

"Well I figured cutting through might be a little faster," Allen lied smoothly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Also more dangerous..." the innkeeper hummed, before shrugging. "Well, it's none of my business. Anyway, enjoy your meal." She said, moving to go back to her cooking pot and check on if the food was ready for her other customers.

"Mm-hm, thank you again." Allen offered up politely before going back to eating, scarfing down what was left in no time flat and sighing contently.

Full stomach not withstanding, it didn't take long for his thoughts to wander back to the circumstances surrounding his Master's death, feeling as though there were eyes on him despite that, as far as he could tell, no one was watching.

He himself looked rather unassuming - a young man, maybe only a few years too old to be called a boy anymore, relatively thin and small by comparison of most Nords even if he did have some muscle to speak for, dressed rather plainly, only a white shirt with black pants and fine boots, a steel sword at his side; really the only nice dress that he had was his cloak, a white weave lined in Snow Bear fur. Even so, he was quite a bit more formidable and more hardened to the world than outward appearances or his gentlemanly(-to-a-fault) attitude implied.

On the other hand, for someone to be skilled enough to take out Cross...

He would have to be extra vigilant.

It wouldn't be the first time he had to find ways to outmanuever shady characters in some form or fashion to ensure his own survival, it was just that usually he knew their faces. Of course for someone to get the jump on his Master...even if the man was a bit drunk, that was an impressive feat, and one for concern. For all outward appearances and irresponsible behavior, his Master was no pushover when it came to the battlefield. If anyone knew that, it was Allen.

He had to resist gazing around the room warily, since he was meant to be playing the part of the casual traveler, but the tingling feeling on his neck of being watched wouldn't leave. It could always just be paranoia playing tricks on his mind, but he wasn't willing to drop his guard either. Better to err on the side of caution until he reached his destination.

Assuming he _did_ have pursuers, to which he was still uncertain of, he hoped that he might slip away before they could figure out he was no longer present in Solitude and track him. Of course it would be ideal to discover that he had no such threats from assassins but at the moment every bit of knowledge on the matter was up in the air, so he would simply have to play it by ear and hope for the best.

The albino male still wasn't even sure yet who he was meeting, but Komui seemed to have had it all arranged already and how he was to find this person, so at the moment he was trusting the man's judgment and trying to focus on actually reaching the city first, and would worry about finding who he was supposed to meet when he actually arrived.

He stood, producing some gold coins to leave on the table and nodding appreciation toward the innkeeper.

"Thank you for the food, ma'am."

The woman smiled. "It was my pleasure. You take care now, and try not to go crawling through the marshes anymore," she tossed.

Allen chuckled slightly as he hefted his cloak around his shoulders, securing the clasp on the front of it. "I'll remember that from now on," he returned idly, not really having planned on getting soaked the first time around though at least this time the icy waters would be behind him.

Having his things packed and ready, he idly rested one hand over the hilt of his sword, out of sight beneath his cloak and more just as a precaution in case he needed to draw it. Snow and ice, coating the wood boardwalks and ground, crunched underfoot and Allen glanced down the path that headed due south, humming in thought as he debated the best way to take. He knew that either way, he'd cross with the main road, but he was still wary to follow it for any distance.

Now that he thought about it, he wasn't entirely sure the location of where Morthol even was in exact accordance with a map, pulling a folded paper out and unfolding it, which had seen some wear-and-tear and he knew he'd probably need to get another one soon before this one was worn beyond it's usefulness, but for the moment it served its purpose anyway.

If he headed south out of here and hit the main road, it looked like there should be a relatively easy mountain pass right through that would take him almost straight to Whiterun, whereas if he took the main road, he'd run right into a bandit encampment settled right on the river, right on the only definite crossing that direction. While they might let him go through if he paid them, he'd like to avoid that if at all possible. Cutting through the mountain should save him both time and coin, and hopefully a fight, though he couldn't say for sure what sort of creatures might be living that way. If worse comes to worse, he could always double back to the road.

Of course, he really didn't mind dealing with bandits, when he had to. Just about every one of them could be persuaded to leave peaceably for just the right amount of coin, while those less willing to take only coin he could usually beat down until they ran like kicked dogs, but at average 200 gold per toll-road, it ate away at assets quickly. And he rather enjoyed being able to afford to eat, especially with how costly his eating habits grew to be.

The cold was already biting at the exposed skin of his face and seeping past his clothing, the boy pulling his fur-lined cloak closer around his frame and crossing his arms over himself, hands tucked into his pits.

He made his way between a few rocky hills that seperated Morthal from the main road. He was certain it wasn't yet daytime, though with the thick covering of clouds and snowfull obscuring any sight they might've had of the sky, it was a bit difficult to percieve the exact time of day. Occasionally the teen would shake his head off or brush a gloved hand over his hair and rid it of snowflakes that had settled over the equally white locks, his eyes occasionally darting about the landscape just in case any manner of man or beast tried to ambush him from the roadside, but it seemed relatively clear the entire way, the only movement to interrupt the otherwise silent snowscape being the creaking of trees occasionally buffetted by the wind and the falling of packed snow from their branches, and the only creature to cross his path being a small snow fox out hunting for food.

It was a bit shy of a two hour's walk before Allen paused to gaze between two small mountains, a stone structure standing in the pass between them, the teen idly massaging his legs which were feeling sore from the cold. He was pretty sure it was the pass marked on the map, but there was no telling what might be lurking in or around it. There were a lot of possibilities. Bandits were always one...Draugr were another, and just about everything in between.

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the wind howling through the pass, making a horrendous_ wooo_ sound. Shaking away the chill, he adjusted his cloak, which had shifted a bit from the wind. As he came closer to the structure, he kept himself on high alert, eyes scanning for shadows which shouldn't be and crevices that contained hidden dangers. However, he also kept an eye towards the ground, knowing that the snow could cover any sort of dangerous things: tripwires, bear traps, pits, and spells. Any one of those could spell death for him.

_Great place for an ambush,_ he couldn't help but notice ruefully, his eyes jumping from one cleft to one shadow to another in anticipation of a possible enemy, first and foremost looking for archers posted on the edges of the ruin.

He noticed a flicker of movement ahead and the hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his side tightened around it, relaxing only after seeing that it was a deer grazing on spar grasses just of the clefts of the mountain. The animal likewise lifted its head at him, eyeing with ears angled before snorting harshly and taking off further up the path at a quick gallop, disappearing over the rise.

The higher he climbed, the thicker the snow got. Traps or arrows didn't come his way but the teen froze as he heard a sound ahead, some sort of snarl or growl, tensing and trying to dredge up where he'd heard that sound before.

_A bear? No, I don't think so...something else._ He knew he'd heard such a sound before, but couldn't quite seem to place it, falling into a low crouch and moving further up the path to the stone archway that led into the heart of the outside ruins, peaking his head just around the edge. He had to squint his eyes and really look around, but after a short while he spotted what he had been trying to locate, a white beast hunched over the slain deer that had bolted not minutes before. After a moment, another snarl rang in the air and a second one joined it, the two squaring off with bared fangs for a moment before taking a side of the deer and ripping it apart between them.

Inwardly, the teen couldn't help but sigh.

_Frost trolls. Just my luck..._

So now it was either go for it or go back. Really, going back seemed a wiser decision. Frost trolls were nothing to sniff at. On the same token, it would take even longer to go around the mountains, and he didn't know that there would be another pass to go through. He battled an inward sigh of resignation.

_Bandits don't seem like such a bad conflict all of a sudden,_ he lamented, even as he inwardly tried to prepare for either sneaking around them, or if he couldn't manage that, what was no doubt going to be a difficult fight. The wind shifted and the two trolls suddenly became aware of his presence, whirling and galloping toward him in search.

Admittedly he was a bit intimidated by it as it snarled and towered itself up, multiple pairs of eyes gleaming with predatory bloodlust. He had already drawn his blade by this point, wielding it with his right hand skillfully and made a swift, precise slash at it, managing to gash its arm, though not as deeply as he would've liked. Of course he knew that trolls were not easy creatures to take on, especially not a frost troll, so he wasn't surprised that the strike didn't pierce its thick hide enough to cripple its arm.

Being mindfully attentive to its movements, he dodged back nimbly as the troll took a clawing swipe at him. Granted Allen wasn't the most physically strong combatant, he was quick and light on his feet, a skill that had come from a totally different part of his younger life before having to learn formal fighting arts of any kind. The second one charged him, and he vaulted forward, rolling across the ground and springing back to his feet.

The trolls were fierce and likely someone else of his size and fighting skill would have succumb under its onslaught by now, but as it were he nimbly dodged each intended attack with extra room to spare, only trading blows of his own where he saw an opening.

The white-haired teen audibly cursed his luck as he lost some of his footing trying to backpedal from its attacks, its claws managing to snag his side. Allen resisted the urge to cry out, grinding his teeth in pain but was quick to adjust and dove into a tumble, rolling back to his feet and quickly taking up his stance again.

_That's going to make this a lot harder than before..._ he rued to himself, preparing to attack and continuing to try and find an opening_._

He adjusted his grip on the sword before diving to avoid a swipe that would have severed his left arm and left deep gouges in his side. Definitely not something he would want to experience. Rolling to a crouched position, straightening, Allen avoided another amputation-causing attack, dancing back to avoid the other troll's claws.

Pain was making him a bit shorter of breath than he would've been only from dodging the trolls assaults. Adrenaline was doing nothing to help stem the flow of blood, though at least it was dulling his perceptions of the pain somewhat, for now. He charged in near-recklessly and deliberately lost his footing this time, skidding under the troll and quickly scrambling to his feet again, taking a slash at the troll's exposed backside. The beast let out a frothing howl and took a swung backwards at him, the teen dodging under a club-like forearm that probably could've easily knocked him out had it made contact.

The other troll sprung at him, but he dodged it, causing the two beasts to collide and momentarily shift their rage onto each other with gutteral roars. Allen took full advantage of their divided attention, sweeping up to one side in its blind-spot, swinging his blade into the back of its leg and bringing it crashing onto its back with a howl of agony, the teen wasting no time in bringing the sword around the deliver the finishing blow before it had time to recover and add to his injuries.

Certain that the creature was quite dead, he removed his blade and staggered back to fall onto his rear, reflexively moving one hand to put pressure to his side and drawing in several sharp breaths. After a few seconds, he shook his head, a few white locks falling into his face, but he couldn't sit idle.

The other troll charged him, and he scrambled to get to his feet. Better to make a retreat at this point.

Easier said than done as he slipped on ice and snow underfoot, falling hard on his back.

The troll towered over him with jaws gaping and roared menacingly, preparing to shred him with both clawed hands, but something hit it squarely in the head and made it falter before flying off again, making Allen blink in just as much surprise as the troll that whirled around in search of its new attacker.

Deciding the opportune distraction was the best he was going to get, he shuffled back and onto his feet, then spun around, sprinting for the other side of the ruins and diving into a snow-pile, drawing his white cloak around him to hide more effectively. He heard the troll nearby, snarling fury, and counted the seconds, certain his heart had left out more than one beat before the beast could be heard lumbering away. Once he was certain it was gone, he finally poked his head up to confirm as much.

Looks like he lost it, for now.

Letting the adrenaline seep out of him, he winced as soon as she felt the pain, breathing through his teeth, his hair laden with snowflakes and and mussed up by the fight. He would have to deal with his injuries when he reached somewhere he couldn't be attacked, before the smell of blood drew back attention. A wolf or crab, he could handle, but he didn't think he'd survive another troll or a sabre cat. As if in testament to this thought, his eyes shifted about the stony ruin warily. No telling how many more might be lurking somewhere around here.

Allen panted, the cold air and snow burning his lungs somewhat. After a few moments, he rubbed the blade of his sword through the snow to clean it before sheating the weapon, opening up his supplies momentarily for a rag to press against his wound and stem some of the bleeding, getting back to his feet.

As the cold set in once more, he focused setting one foot in front of the other, intent on keeping the blood pumping and making sure he didn't freeze. Brushing away the snowflakes that were in his eyelashes and brows, he blinked, shivering against the chill.

Allen kept his senses alert, silvery blue eyes shifting over the structure of the ruins as he, walked but it seemed that there were no more trolls lurking about, at least not close enough to be a problem and attack. Even so, he kept on high alert just in case and one hand positioned at his sword, ready to draw it. Each doorway leading somewhere within the stone structures seemed a lot more menacing after the fight he'd had and he made it a point to steer clear of them. Snow-encrusted steps led up to a pair of archways between the mountains which he could only assume was the exit of the place, and hopefully unguarded. Snowflakes rested on his eye lashes and obscured his vision somewhat, though with the snow blowing there wasn't much to see by already.

_I could walk right up to a troll before ever even seeing it in this snowfall until it's munching on my bones,_ he couldn't help but reflect cynically, blue eyes scanning warily but he still didn't see nor hear any sign of impending danger.

Walking beneath a large stone archway, just beyond snow was less abundant on the ground, sparse tussock covered in frost poking its way up from the ground and the snow starting to taper off just beyond. The triangular archway he'd seen before was just ahead and he decidedly picked up his pace a little, eager to leave the ruins and any more lingering trolls far behind him. His gaze travelled upwards just in case another troll might've been lurking further out on the cliffs, but was satisfied to see no signs of such and continued on with greater confidence, his gaze lingering on the structure he passed under as he walked. He'd seen many ancient Nord ruins countless times throughout his travels but he was always awed by the longstanding structures and what it must have taken to build them to last such a vast amount of time without crumbling.

The rest of the pass was a straight shoot through tundra grasses and pine trees for some distance, but otherwise he went unbothered by any other manner of beast or man. Finally, having left the ruins well behind him, the opening up of the cliffs, lightening of the snowfall, and din of a couple of wolves howling ahead announced the end of the mountain pass, Allen feeling a little light-headed and heavy-footed but pushing onward and happily awaiting reaching the end of the mountains. He could see the black shapes of the wolves ahead and made it a point to steer around them and give a safe enough distance that they wouldn't attack, satisfied when the animals disregarded him at a distance. The path sloped steeply downward and Allen moved to saunter up a few large rocks protruding from the mountain, getting a nice view of the valley below and the sun peaking out of the clouds above, the position of it telling the teen that it was climbing past mid-day.

A small smile creased his lips as he breathed out in relief. "Whiterun region at last."

Allen's gaze swept across the fields, and squinting his eyes slightly to see. He could spy a few stone structures in the distance, a river to the far right of the field, and the Throat of the World to the far left, silhouetted against the sky. He recognized the fort and watchtower far ahead, so Whiterun Hold could only be perhaps a couple miles away at most now, in the shadow of the mountain. He couldn't really see it from so far away but he had a general idea of where it was now, at least.

He was definitely feeling the effects of blood loss and could use some rest, but this wasn't the place to do it.

Carefully, he moved down amongst the rocks. Not wanting to trip and hurt his legs or ankles, he went slowly and focused on his foot placement, making sure a rock was stable before putting his weight on it. He was feeling exhausted, the burning in his side having dulled but still throbbed achingly, and was more than ready to kick it back and rest a bit. He flexed his fingers in an attempt to deter his body from the pain. It didn't help much, but it was a welcome distraction.

Coming down the hill, he spied a few mammoths making their way away from a pond in the distance, a deer grazing some short ways off, but otherwise it looked to be safe. A few mudcrabs mingling about it, but they seemed content enough to stay on the opposite side of the water to graze on small organisms they plucked off the ground with their claws.

Really the water wasn't very deep at all, maybe only as high as his knees at the deepest point. Shedding his cloak and other belongings to rest them on the ground, he kneeled at the water's edge, and pulled the cloth away from his side. It was stained in blood which ran and mixed with the water as he wrung it clean - or as clean as it was going to get anyway, parts of it blood-stained beyond repair - and brought the icy wet cloth back to his side, hissing through his teeth as the cold touched his flesh.

"That troll really got me good," he lamented aloud, cleaning the wound and pulling some of the torn flesh to get a better look. "I think I'm lucky I didn't get disemboweled."

_Hopefully nothing comes up and tries to eat me,_ he thought somewhat good-humoredly. After making sure he actually had the wound clean, and hoping to avoid any possible infection, he bound it up, having had to treat his own wounds on more than one occasion during his travels. Of course he wasn't one to complain, about much of anything really, so he just dealt with dressing the wound and left it at that without verbalizing much more. Not that there was anyone to complain _to _anyway.

The one thing he did have a complaint for followed closely after a guttural growl from his stomach and a bit of under-the-breath grumbling. He had food, of course, but being of a much larger appetite than most, it wouldn't be as satisfyingly filling until he actually reached Whiterun where he could stuff his face with all the food he could buy up...which was a lot more than he could carry with him any distance.

"Destinations always feel a lot further away when you're hungry," he thought aloud ruefully, even as he rummaged through his bag for the rations he did have with him. It was definitely a true statement, at least for him, and an unfortunate one since there was just about always a goodly amount of distance to cover between towns and inns. Finding a loaf of bread and cheese, he crossed his legs in the shadow of a rock and watched the surrounding landscape warily as he ate.

He was already exhausted, the blood loss attributing to this, and really just wanted to kick it back for a while, but it would be wise not to linger out in the open. Hopefully the food would help him perk up, and he didn't want the smell of blood to attract predators. Even the scuttling of exoskeleton claws on rocks made him a little edgy each time a Mudcrab got a little too close for his liking, before it went back to scavenging another side of the pond.

Allen yawned, stretching his arms over his head, though still mindful not to strain the wound at his side. Better get a move on, before he became too comfortable where he was. He did feel a little better with food, but still a bit weakened.

Getting to his feet, he clasped his cowl back into place and hoisted his travel bag up, his eyes darting about the landscape.

He could finally reach Whiterun and, hopefully, the person he was meant to rendezvous with would either already have arrived or not be long in coming to join him.

A soft clatter made him jump and whirl around, drawing his blade in fear of an assassin, bandit, or beast - that maybe the troll had even followed him - but no one was there. His eyes wandered across the large rocks surrounding him and the pond slightly higher, cocking his head slightly as he approached. He was sure the...whatever it was...hadn't been there before.

As he drew close, he noted that the object was round, a tarnished gold in coloration. _Dwemer artifact, _he guessed. A pair of small, curved horns portruded from it's head, a long tail with a tuft at the end snaking behind it, and a pair of wings resting downward, with gold-yellow feathers. The teen's eyes widened somewhat as he gazed at the thing, his heart rate picking up somewhat.

_This item belonged to my Master, I recognize it from his room. What is it doing here?_ He strained his senses, squinted his eyes into the distance and potential hiding places as he whirled his head one way or the other, listening intently, but no sound gave away any sort of lurking enemy. After a moment the object moved, flapping it's wings and startling him, before it lifted itself airborne, flapping in front of him.

The albino's eyes widened even further, the youth blinking several times, dumbfounded. _It's moving...on its own._ He thought redundantly and in disbelief. Was it the work of some sort of magick? Was someone controlling it?

The..._thing_...opened up into a toothy snarl, baring it's fangs at him, or perhaps it was...was it a grin? Was the thing _smiling_ at him? He noticed now, a small roll of tied paper clasped between it's teeth, getting the vague impression that the gold dwemer-looking device was waiting for him to take it. Was someone sending a messenger to him? _It could be Komui's doing, he likes to tinker into dwemer machinery after_ _all_, he thought idly. _Then again it could be the very assassins that killed Master too._

With a bit of caution, he took the paper, watching it intently to make sure it wouldn't try and bite off his fingers. When he had them pulled back and safe from its teeth, he pulled the small bit of twine that kept it tied together and unrolled it. It really wasn't a very large piece of paper, barely big enough to need to hold it rolled out. The gold sphere fluttered over to fly in place just over his shoulder, as if reading it as well.

**_Dear Allen,_**

**_Just in case I'm not around to give this to you personally, I've written this message. The gold flying thing is yours, consider it a gift of sorts. It's name is Timcanpy, take good care of it._**

**_-Cross_**

Once again Allen was left blinking for a few moments in confusion, not entirely sure what to think. This..._Timcanpy_...thing...his Master was giving it to him? For a moment he wondered if it could be a trick, but the little doodle of his master in the corner, and the handwriting, told him it was definately written by Cross. And he knew he had seen it sitting on the desk in his Master's room in the top floor of Proudspire Manor before.

After a moment his gaze shifted to the flying...whatever it was supposed to be, huffing through his nose.

"So you're called _Timcanpy_, huh?" The creature seemed to perk slightly as he spoke to it and fluttered up to rest on top of his head, tail draping around his neck and seeming content to use his head as a perch. The ache in his side had lessened again and he started to walk toward the main road he knew was somewhere nearby. "I guess you're tagging along now, too, huh?" The only answer he received was wing-tips lightly batting against his head.


	6. Not What Was Expected

**Pierrot to the Crown  
A D Gray-Man and Skyrim Crossover**

* * *

The rest of Allen's walk was uneventful. No beasts attacked him, nor were there any bandit ambushes on the road, nor an assassin. Not even one of the many thieves that so often staked out the major roads. In other words, his way to Whiterun couldn't have gone any better, after that one incident with the troll.

As he grew close, he couldn't help but gaze up at the Throat of the World, the great, looming mountain never ceasing to amaze with its grandeur size stretching up and taking over much of the skyline, still just as mysterious and awe-inspiring as ever as thick clouds swept up the sides slowly and hid much of it from view.

He found himself gazing up at it even as he walked up to the front gates of Whiterun, pausing a moment to issue a sigh and pushed the large wood gate doors open to step inside, his gaze sweeping about the city streets. The cobblestone walkway was lined in various Nordic wood buildings, a blacksmith shop and vacant house within easy view on the right; a tavern on the left up on a small hill to the left; and guard barracks. Much further down was the central open market stalls, right in front of an. Huffing under his breath, he made his way to the Bannered Mare on the far side of Whiterun, unable to help looking around warily.

He still had no clue who, or even _if_, Assassin's were pursuing him. At the same time though, he was supposed to meet someone here…someone who Komui had neglected to inform about how to find. He had been told his escort would know _him_ by description, but how was Allen supposed to know if it was his escort or an assassin?

"I sure hope you know what you're doing, Komui," he muttered under his breath. "Because I sure as Hell don't."

For now, he'd just have to tread carefully, get some rest, and food. He'd cross the bridge of who his escort was once they presented themselves.

* * *

An entire day and half of the evening lost, and still, Allen had yet to see anyone enter the inn that seemed to know him. He could have passed right by the person and not even known it!

Of course it would help if he had any idea about the person he was supposed to be meeting, but he was woefully short on that bit of information.

He growled slightly under his breath and rested his chin on palm, tapping a finger on the table impatiently, sitting at the far corner by the door.

"You're still hanging out here?" the barmaid commented idly, walking over with a large cup and setting it down. "You look a little sour."

Allen gave it a brief look and sniff to determine that it wasn't alcohol before offering her his thanks. "Yeah. I'm supposed to meet someone here, but they haven't shown up yet. Hopefully I'm not just wasting my time here," he chuckled dryly before taking a swig of his drink.

"Is it a girl?" Allen sputtered and choked on his water, slouching over to cough it to the floor.

"N-no! It's nothing like that!" he flustered.

"It's alright, you don't have to get so touchy about it," the woman laughed. "I won't tell anyone."

"It's really not like that," Allen insisted, turning a rosy hue. "It's just a business matter that I'm running for someone else."

The woman hummed, unconvinced, and bent to eye-level uncomfortably close, staring him down. "Really?"

"U-um, y-yeah…" Allen muttered, leaning away. "Really. That's all."

After a moment of locked gazes the woman straightened up again, moving to tend her other customers. "Well, if you insist. Anyway, if you're hungry, Hulda has some warm food going on the fire. It's none too pricy, either."

"Um, thank you," Allen offered up sheepishly, his stomach choosing just that moment to utter a loud growl.

With a resigned sigh, he lifted himself from his chair and wandered to the bar counter, taking a seat on one of the stools. His master was dead, his home no longer safe, his escort hadn't shown up, and his side was still injured and sore. This was turning out to be a really bad day.

"Some cooked beef with some bread and Eidar cheese, some baked potatoes, grilled leeks and chicken breast, a roast goat leg, some salmon steaks, an apple pie, and a couple of honey nut treats please," he muttered to Hulda.

"Your appetite sure hasn't changed at all," Hulda laughed lightly as she paused cleaning a glass and set it down to go about getting the food he ordered.

"Yeah," Allen shrugged half-heartedly, feeling just a little depressed. Maybe he'd feel just a bit better about everything after he'd drown himself in the apple pie.

When she brought out the food, he dug in readily, feeling half-starved by this point. In no time at all he'd finished down the beef, bread, cheese, chicken…just about everything except for dessert.

He slowed down once he got to the apple pie and the honey nut treats, savoring them more than the other food.

Oh yeah, that definitely hit the spot…

He jumped slightly as a hand slammed on the counter just off to his side, leaving several coins behind when it retreated.

"You have available rooms, right?" The voice of the cloaked figure was harsh and gruff, definitely not the friendly sort.

"Aye, we do. I can show you right to it."

"Good," the man barked, taking a seat next to Allen and making the boy uncomfortable, despite that the guy didn't seem to pay him any mind. "But before that, I'll have some wine, and some salmon steak."

"Coming right up," Hulda said curtly before walking away.

Aside from the local bard singing one of his many songs, and the crackle of the fire, silence followed, Allen feeling increasingly uncomfortable left alone next to this guy.

Could he be an assassin? No, no, that was ridiculous. He didn't even actually know whether an assassin was even after him. After all, who would be after him?

Of course the guy sounded kind of mean…like the type who would be perfect for the Brotherhood. At least, what Allen imagined of those in the Brotherhood. But-

"Hey."

Allen jumped in his skin and offered up a tentative, "Y-yeah?"

"You're him, right?"

"H-him?" Allen questioned. "Him, who?"

"_Che_." The guy turned so Allen could finally see his face, or at least partially so. Long features, a nose that was generally flat, a deep scowl, and even deeper, dark eyes partially obscured by black bangs. "Who do you think? You're my rendezvous, right?"

Allen blew out a breath to steady himself and turned back to his pie.

"And you're my escort?" he returned hesitantly. Both pause as Hulda returned with a glass and a plate of food for the other man, before walking off to tend other duties. "How do I know you're not an assassin or something, posing as the person I'm supposed to be meeting?"

"Not as dumb as you look," the man muttered, making Allen's eye tick in annoyance.

"And just what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what it sounded like," the dark-haired ass returned without missing a beat, the epitome of calm. "Why Komui would want me to guard someone as obviously stupid as you is beyond me." He took a swig of whine even as Allen himself felt his blood pressure rising. This guy knew how to press every wrong button of his, it seemed, straight out of the gate. He was about to speak before the man cut him off, speaking again. "Actually, I can believe it. You look like you've barely handled a sword in your life."

"Now that's just crossing a line," Allen hissed, already having developed a dislike for the guy. "I can and have handled myself just fine up to this point."

"_Che_," the man scoffed again, tense silence falling between the two.

Did Komui _honestly_ expect them to get along and not kill each other before they even reached Winterhold? At present, that was looking like a lot to hope for. This escort of his was nothing like he was expecting. Hard-edged, perhaps, sure... but not a completely callous jerk.

"The name's Kanda," the man said after many moments.

Allen grumbled a few incoherent complaints under his breath, staring down into his cup of water with a scowl before offering up, "Allen Walker."

"When you've finished eating, we'll discuss our path in the room I paid for and then leave immediately." Kanda barked, not even bothering to ask if Allen was okay with that. Which, by his audible groan, he wasn't.

"I haven't even slept because I was waiting the whole day for you to even show up," he voiced.

"Tough luck," Kanda returned, making Allen's dislike of him grow even more. "The sooner we get to our destination, the sooner my job will be over, and the sooner I'll be rid of you."

Allen narrowed his eyes. "Well, it's nice to know my life is in the hands of such a considerate _jackass_."

Kanda only scoffed under his breath, finishing his meal, Allen not far behind, before he stood and walked across the room with heavy, audible steps.

"Hey," he called out to Hulda. "I'm ready to be shown to my room now."

She nodded as Allen followed more slowly. "Right this way then." Walking up the stairs to the second floor, she took them to the available room, offering up, "Let me know if there's anything else you need," before heading back downstairs.

Kanda finally lowered his hood and shook out the longest ponytail Allen had ever seen on a man, tied high on his head yet reaching most of the way down his back. Actually his hair had a far more feminine quality than even some women Allen had seen.

Walking across the room, he stepped out onto the terrace overlooking the rest of the inn, firelight casting a faint glow on it, the older male taking a seat on one of the chairs nearest the stairway. Allen followed and took a seat as well, while the bard continued to play below.

Pulling out a map, Kanda folded it out on the small table in front of both chairs, pointing with a calloused index finger.

"I've already mapped our best route. If we head north from Whiterun along the road, past the Whitewatch Tower, and then east, that'll take us toward Windhelm. About halfway between, there's an inn called Nightingale where we can stop to rest," he explained, his voice loud enough for Allen to hear when leaned forward, but hushed enough that no one else would be able to detect it.

Allen nodded, not really feeling up to arguing, and it did sound like a good path to take. The other road flanking the White River was riddled with bandit encampments, giant lairs, and other kinds of beasts. The creatures through the Pale, northern Eastmarch, and Winterhold were nothing to sniff at, but there were at least a smaller number of them, so they would be easier to avoid, for the most part.

"Instead of going to Windhelm from there, we'll take the path through these mountains and along the main road to Winterhold. That should get us there more quickly, and with less to worry about."

"Sounds like a plan," Allen agreed somberly, nodding his head in the affirmative.

"Good. Then we should head out immediately. The dark of night will give us some good cover, just in case."

Allen nodded once again, hoping that there was no need for a 'just in case', but it was better to err on the side of caution.


End file.
